Monday, February 27, 2017

OK, that's a wrap on the 2017 Oscar ceremony! So it too early to start looking ahead to the 2018 Academy Awards?

Not if you're as obsessed with film awards as we are!

Christopher Nolan's "Dunkirk" is an early contender for Best Picture and a bunch of other awards, at least according to a list compiled by the Internet Movie Database and industry chatter. "Hurt Locker" director Kathryn Bigelow is also on tap with a drama about civil unrest in 1967 Detroit; as of yet that project is still untitled.

Although they've also got Matt Damon's egregious medieval thriller, "The Great Wall," on the list. What's that all about?

And while we're talking about movies, let's not ignore the Oscar ceremony itself. Jimmy Kimmel just completed his first stint as host, so does he have a chance to repeat? Here's one perspective trying to predict who the 2018 host will be.

Other notable films I'm hearing talked up for next year's awards include "Murder on the Orient Express," "Darkest Hour," the remake of "Blade Runner," "The Beguiled," "Downsizing" and "The Death of Stalin."

I remember "Carbon Copy" as one of the first "grownup" movies I was allowed to see in the theaters. It's a film that's more notable for its place in cinematic history than the actual merits of the flick itself, though those are not inconsiderable.

Topping the list is the film debut of Denzel Washington. If you were to draw up a list of the greatest film actors of the past 30 years, here would be mine (in no order): Meryl Streep, Morgan Freeman, Tom Hanks, Anthony Hopkins, Denzel Washington. Oh, and Jeff Bridges... he's quieter than the rest, but no less deserving.

Washington gets the "...and introducing" treatment here at the end of the opening cast credits. It's not exactly an auspicious debut for someone of his stature, and the film has largely been forgotten today.

Mostly that's owing to its racial themes, which were mildly progressive for 1981 but seem hopelessly antiquated -- even a little insensitive -- for today. Not to mention that almost instantly obsolete title, a reference to an early form of document reproduction that I would guess few under age 40 even recognize.

Screenwriter Stanley Shapiro had a busy career for three decades, a comedic master who was nominated for the Oscar four times, winning once for 1960's "Pillow Talk." This was back in the day when the Academy wasn't shy about recognizing funny movies, unlike today.

(Unless it's comedy of the pitch-black variety, a la "About Schmidt" or "The Descendants.")

Shapiro's last feature film credit was the wonderful "Dirty Rotten Scoundrels" in 1988. His screwball comedy roots and rapid-patter style of dialogue are evident in "Carbon Copy," a movie that always seems like it's in too much of a hurry. Scenes race to their conclusion like the spirit of Louis B. Mayer was sitting behind director Michael Schultz with a stopwatch.

Speaking of Schultz, he was a notable African-American director working in mainstream Hollywood for decades, with credits like "Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band," "Car Wash" and a number of Richard Pryor comedies. Approaching age 80, he's still active in television today working on popular series like "Arrow" and "Black-ish."

Washington's character starts at the forefront of the story, and gradually gets pushed aside. "Carbon Copy" is really a star vehicle for George Segal, who plays Walter Whitney, a harried 41-year-old Los Angeles corporate executive squeezed from all sides by his shrew wife, Vivian (Susan Saint James), and his boss, Nelson (Jack Warden), who's also his father-in-law.

Then 17-year-old Roger Porter (Washington) shows up on is doorstep, claiming to be his son from a long-ago romance with an African-American woman. The setup is that Walter truly loved Roger's mother, but sold out to marry into money and the big time. Nelson insisted that Walter cover up the romance so as not to upset the WASP elite of San Marino, a tony suburb of L.A., as well as change his surname from Weisenthal to Whitney, for similar reasons.

Walter's not a bad guy, but he's reaping the whirlwind of bad life choices all coming back to haunt him at once.

The movie opens on an... uncomfortable note. Walter awakens Vivian with demands for sex, the result of long pent-up frustration, which grow increasingly strident, only to be dispelled when the maid walks in on them with a silver breakfast platter. Vivian even whips out the "r" word, and she quickly reports the whole episode to daddy, resulting in a talking-to from the old man.

Nelson is a real piece of work. He's an old-school sort who believes it's the duty of the rich and powerful to stay that way. But he's got his charms.

On the one hand, he wields the carrot of reminding Walter that he can become The Man one day if he follows the straight-and-narrow path, while also threatening the stick of blackmailing him about his black bastard son and Jewish heritage.

Nelson genuinely wants Walter to follow in his footsteps, even if he has to hammer his feet to a pulp to make the shoes fit. "Learn to trust unhappiness, Walter," he counsels.

Washington is a revelation from the moment we first lay eyes on him. Just 23 when the movie was shot, he's a lithe and charismatic presence from the get-go. He adopts the demeanor of a streetwise tough, waltzing into Walter's office and admiring all the trappings: big oak desk (soon adorned by Roger's feet), three-piece suits, expense account lunches, Rolls Royce company car, etc. He makes out like he's looking for a payday.

In the end, it's revealed that Roger is actually a smart, hard-working kid who graduated from high school early and is already in his second year of pre-med at college. He just wanted to meet his old man, take his measure and see what happens next. Part of him would take great delight in seeing his world unravel -- which is exactly what happens. But he finds himself burdened with a growing fondness for Walter.

Questions of parentage are quickly set aside for storytelling convenience -- despite the only ostensible proof of progeny being some old letters of his mother's Roger found after her death. (Speaking of which: for someone who just lost his mom, he doesn't seem very broken up about it.)

The movie doesn't take time to really explore how a middle-aged guy like Walter feels about having a black son, moving right into screwball comedy territory. First he introduces Roger to Vivian as their summer guest as part of a program for underprivileged kids, after convincing her that all the other rich wives of San Marino will want "one" -- and she'll be the first.

Mere minutes into this new arrangement, however, Walter corners his wife with a hypothetical about accepting Roger if he were his "natural" son, just as he has (grudgingly) accepted and adopted her daughter from a previous marriage, a spoiled brat of the first order. When she takes the bait and Walter reveals that Roger really is his son, everything falls apart quickly.

He's thrown out of the house, loses his job, has his Rolls impounded and all his credit cards cut up, his assets frozen, etc. His oldest friend and attorney (Dick Martin) even drops him as a client to represent Vivian in the divorce. The lawyer he refers him to -- of course a black guy, played by Paul Winfield -- tells Walter all he's got in the world is whatever he has in his wallet, some 62 dollars.

He explains to Walter that he's being forcibly put through "social menopause:" "You're going through a change of color, Mr. Whitney. You don't want to play the game as a white man, so they're going to let you watch it as a black man."

That's of course going too far. Being a penniless, socially outcast white man in 1981 was still preferable to most iterations of black life of that era. Read a certain way, the film is a cautionary tale during the early days of Reagan.

Anyway, Walter and Roger suffer the life of paupers -- for a few days. He can't get a job after being blacklisted, so he takes to day labor cleaning out horse stalls (still wearing his three-piece to the gig). This leads him to reflect upon his new life of shit, and the resolve it brings. "I'll shovel it. I'll live in it. But I won't take it."

Meanwhile, Roger pawns his golf clubs and other stuff for cash to get them by another day. He also reveals that he has a car of his own that he bought for "$14 and a toaster," which is a comically battered 1959 or '60 Chevrolet Bel Air, the front end mangled and one tire wobbling like a dancing hippo.

"Carbon Copy" takes the issue of divisions between black and white and between rich and poor and turns it into a prank, a springboard for laughs rather than social observation. For example, there's a scene where Walter, desperate for cash, challenges an out-of-shape father and son to a game of basketball for five bucks, thinking he's got a ringer because every black kid can play hoops, right? And of course Roger turns out to be completely inept, sailing the ball eight feet over the backboard.

We're never quite certain of how deeply the film is in on its own joke. Is that scene funny because of Walter's presumptions about black athletes, or our own? Are we laughing at the African-American who can't shoot a basketball, or at Walter for assuming that he could?

Thank God, at least the movie doesn't have a dancing scene.

I can't quite bring myself to dislike "Carbon Copy," however. The dialogue is still snappy even if the plot feels like it's hopped up on speed. And the cast is a pure pleasure: the folksy, slightly neurotic charm of George Segal, and young Denzel Washington feeling his oats on the big screen.

Sunday, February 26, 2017

I didn’t catch “Allied” when it came out in theaters for its all-too-brief run -- and I was hardly the only one who missed it. The film got lost in the shuffle of Oscar hopefuls stampeding into theaters in December and never found a large audience.

I finally caught up during my effort to see all the Academy Award nominees -- it got a well-deserved nod for costumes -- and was surprised to find a splendid war drama/romance.

Brad Pitt and Marion Cotillard play spies working for the British government during World War II. He’s Max, a Canadian, she’s Marianne, a French resistance legend. They meet up in North Africa, posing as a married couple, so they work hard at appearing familiar with each other -- a little too hard, it would seem.

Their assignment is to assassinate the German ambassador to Casablanca, so they know there’s a high likelihood one or both of them may not survive.

But they do, and get married and have a sweet baby girl, while Max takes an office job in London. But with the Normandy invasion coming up, his superiors start to suspect that Marianne may not be who she claims.

So he’s ordered to perform a “blue dye” operation on his wife. I’ll spare you the details, but the important part is that if she fails the test, it becomes his duty to execute Marianne -- personally. Failure to do so is considered treason.

Director Robert Zemeckis and screenwriter Steve Knight give us a gorgeous-looking movie filled with fraught sequences and keen emotional anguish. How much of Max and Marianne’s ardor is genuine, and how much is the result of circumstance and espionage intrigue? Does one’s patriotic obligation extend so far as to demand you kill the person you love?

Give “Allied” a look-see on home video, and you’ll find a well-made film that goes beyond typical spy stories.

Video extras are pretty decent, though you’ll have to shell out for the Blu-ray combo pack to get them, as the DVD version contains none.

They consist of 10 making-of featurettes: “Story of Allied,” “From Stages to the Sahara: The Production Design of Allied,” “Through the Lens: Directing with Robert Zemeckis,” “A Stitch in Time: The Costumes of Allied,” “‘Til Death Do Us Part: Max and Marianne,” “Guys and Gals: The Ensemble Cast,” “Lights, Pixels, ACTION! The Visual Effects of Allied,” “Behind the Wheel: The Vehicles of Allied,” “Locked and Loaded: The Weapons of Allied,” “That Swingin’ Sound: The Music of Allied.”

Thursday, February 23, 2017

Hollywood loves movies about Hollywood, and there hasn't been a film so in love with Los Angeles and filmmaking as "La La Land" in a long, long time.

At a time when many in show business and journalism are feeling threatened by the political establishment, I think that will be reflected in what Academy voters pick for his year's Oscar winners. They'll go for joy and light over dourness and darkness.

Expect lots of anti-POTUS speeches, no matter who does win.

The end result is "La La Land" appears poised for a runaway night, at a time the Academy Awards are expected be more diverse than ever. Most of the preliminary awards have gone its way, including the Producer's Guild of America and the Director's Guild of America, which are pretty predictive. Interestingly, "Hidden Figures" took the best feature prize in the Screen Actors Guild awards, and actors represent the largest voting bloc in the Academy.

I had presumed that "Moonlight" and, to a lesser extent, "Manchester by the Sea" were the other two main contenders. If there is a surprise Best Picture winner, I now think it'll be "Figures."

I thought 2016 was a very good year in cinema. Not as outstanding as 2015, which I still contend will go down as one of the all-time greats. Still, I gave out my top score -- 5 Yaps, 4 stars or an "A," depending on where the review was appearing -- to five feature films. I usually have one or two, and I've had many a year where I awarded it to none.

I made a concerted effort to see all 64 films nominated for an Oscar this year. It's harder than it sounds (or should be), especially for documentaries and foreign language films. I'm down to just one, the animated feature "My Life is a Zucchini," though I hope to rectify that by the time this posts.

OK, enough chatter. Let's get down to the picks and predictions.
As always, not only will I tell you who think willwin and who shouldwin, I'll gleefully toss out some of the nominees in favor of more deserving ones, in the hallowed tradition I call the "Chris Cross."

Best Picture

It seems I already hashed out most of the intrigue in the Best Picture race above. (Note to self: Keep introductions shorter.)

I liked "La La Land," "Moonlight," "Hidden Figures" and "Lion" -- they're all fine films with noble efforts behind them. I just don't think any of them are Best Picture material, let alone a runaway favorite like "La La Land."

As I wrote about it when it came out, it's kind of adorable but kind of inconsequential. I much preferred Damien Chazelle's previous feature, "Whiplash." But it has the benefit of being a movie to which no one objects.

"Moonlight" had an interesting three-act structure that got less interesting to me with each time lapse. "Hidden Figures" is a standard feel-good historical drama that hits its notes 1-2-3. "Lion" is an amazing true story that plays out like Dev Patel is showcasing Google Earth.

My favorite of the year is well known. "Hell or High Water" was the best film I saw last year, a new/old Western that took a lot of familiar material and made it seem vibrant and alive. The shunning of "The Birth of a Nation" based on the filmmaker's adjudicated innocence of rape charges while in college is a travesty that rivals last year's #OscarsSoWhite protests.

Director

Chazelle has this one pretty well wrapped up. He's won every preliminary award that I'm aware of, and most of the critic groups, too. And it is a very well-directed film -- the compositions, the story structure, the performances all seem to flow from one filmmaker's vision.

For a musical, I think the music is pretty take-it-or-leave-it. Neither Ryan Gosling or Emma Stone can sing very well, even with the help of selective editing of many recording takes. Just don't have the pipes.

The surprise nominee here is Mel Gibson for "Hacksaw Ridge," the culmination of a career rehabilitation not many would have bet on just a few short years ago.

The obvious omission here is David Mackenzie for "Hell or High Water." Tough call, but I'll knock out "Arrival" for failing to engage on an emotional level. Also, Martin Scorsese gave us one of cinema's greatest contemplations on faith, but I don't think he made "Silence" for awards and kudos.

I'll give my "should win" pick to Kenneth Lonergan. "Manchester by the Sea" is a very difficult emotional thicket to wade through, to maintain an elegiac tone while also introducing surprising notes of humor.

Writing (Adapted Screenplay)

Academy voters have often used the screenplay category to reward a smaller film and/or an up-and-coming filmmaker. That's why I think the award will go to Barry Jenkins for "Moonlight." It tackles difficult topics of race and sexuality in a sensitive and probing way; the film's gentleness just oozes out of every pore.

"Arrival" won the WGA award in this category, so I figure it's the other top contender.
For my money, I'll take August Wilson's adaptation of his own play, "Fences." I usually don't care for stage-to-screen pictures, but this one had spot-on pacing, dialogue and characterizations.

Both "Hidden Figures" and "Lion" could have been a lot less clichéd than they are.
I would have loved to see nominations for "A Monster Calls" and "Deadpool."

Yes, that's right, an Oscar nomination for a screenplay based on a comic book. When it's the year's cleverest writing, you betcha.

Writing (Original Screenplay)

This one's between "La La Land" and "Manchester by the Sea." Normally I think Oscar voters would like to honor a smaller piece of work they found ambitious, but the tidal surge for "La La Land" will change things up.

"The Lobster" was quirky for quirk's sake. I liked a lot of things about "20th Century Women," but the pieces added up to less than the sum of its parts.

I'll take "The Birth of a Nation" and "Sing Street" instead.
I also really liked "Everybody Wants Some!!," but I think that film works because of its freewheeling atmosphere and truly ensemble cast rather than anything written down on a page.

Actress in a Leading Role

This one is a REAL toss-up. Early on it was shaping up as a career capper for great French star Isabelle Huppert for "Elle." The film's subject matter -- a woman who develops a relationship with her rapist -- is probably too strong for a lot of older Academy voters.

I think a lot of people will vote for Meryl Streep just because they want to see her continue her Trump feud from the biggest podium in the world. In the end, though, "Florence Foster Jenkins" is hardly one of her top performances.

My should-win pick would be Ruth Negga, who really had to carry the film "Loving" because her film counterpart is such a reserved, withdrawn guy. But she's too much of a newcomer to contend. On the flip side, Natalie Portman recently won the award and "Jackie" is not a particularly well-regarded picture.

So I'm predicting Emma Stone will win. She's a fine young actress and I'm sure the award will do a lot for her career. I don't really begrudge her.

There was a lot of talk about snubs for Amy Adams in "Arrival," but I hardly think it was her best work.

It was a terrific year for female lead performances. Usually there's a filler or two in this category, but there are many others you could have pointed to as deserving. My only regret is that Rebecca Hall didn't get more traction for her brilliant performance in "Christine," a deeply immersive portrait of a suicidal TV journalist.

Will Win: Stone
Should Win: Negga
Chris Cross: Hall replaces Streep

Actress in a Supporting Role

I'm not a fan of category-hopping, and that's exactly what Viola Davis is doing here. Her role in "Fences" is obviously a leading one. That's the way August Wilson wrote it. Indeed, when Denzel Washington and much of the same cast brought about the stage revival a few years ago, Davis was nominated for the Best Actress Tony, not Supporting.

I don't blame Davis; it's the studio that pushed her as a supporting actress. And based on the preliminary awards, it appears the ruse will work.

I thought the best performance in this category was Naomie Harris in "Moonlight." Playing the crack-addicted mother, she gave the character such a depth of despair and resentment. And here's my favorite stat of the film year: Harris was on set for a grand total of three days. She did that. In three days.

Just amazing.
Nicole Kidman was fine in "Lion" and Octavia Spencer was, too, in "Hidden Figures," but they were one- (maybe two-) note characters who represent more an ideal than a person.

Rachel Weisz gave four indelible performances in 2016: "The Light Between Oceans," "Denial," "The Lobster" and "Complete Unknown." The fact the Academy couldn't see fit to honor even one of the represents the year's truly egregious snub. So I'll give her two spots!

Actor in a Leading Role

This one had seemed to be Casey Affleck's to lose. His only real competition is Denzel Washington, who took the SAG award. Plus, it truly was the best performance by an actor this year.

Old allegations of sexual harassment have come back to haunt Affleck, so a lot or prognosticators are picking Washington. But I think Affleck will prevail.

I was glad to see Andrew Garfield get a nod for his sensitive portrayal of a deeply religious man willing to make the ultimate sacrifice for his faith in "Hacksaw Ridge" -- although he actually did a better job of doing the same thing in Martin Scorsese's criminally unseen "Silence."

I was similarly pleased to see Viggo Mortensen receive a nod for "Captain Fantastic," a terrific little picture I'm hoping more people will seek out as a result of this accolade.

Ryan Gosling was fine, but c'mon -- this was the equivalent of seeing a pitcher's third-best pitch. Not a lot of heavy lifting there.

How about Ethan Hawke in the little-seen "Born to Be Blue"? Or Don Cheadle in "Miles Ahead"? Two great explorations of troubled jazz greats. I know that leaves me a spot shy; coin flip between Hawke and Cheadle.

Actor in a Supporting Role

This is usually one of the busiest categories. I could easily swap out this list of five actors for five more, and then go find another quintet that's deserving.

First, the bumps: Lucas Hedges had a breakout performance in "Manchester," but it was still surprising to see such a young actor get the nod over veteran performers like Ben Foster in "Hell or High Water" or Hugh Grant in "Florence Foster Jenkins."

I'd also nix Dev Patel for blatant category hopping. For cripes' sake, he's the star of the movie.His face is on all the posters. His character's name is the title. True, during the first half the character is played by another actor. But by any sane measure -- screen time, centrality to the story, lines of dialogue -- that's a leading performance.

Animated Feature

For once it appears the truly best animated feature is going to win over "whatever Disney / Pixar has nominated this year."

"Kubo and the Two Strings" was just a triumph in every way imaginable. The combination of stop-motion photography and CGI backgrounds and effects was seamless. A transporting movie that feels like an ancient Japanese parable.

I thought "Moana" was an imaginative take-off on the staid Disney princess genre, filled with wonderful music, animation, characters and themes. And turns out The Rock can sing!

"Zootopia" was good-not-great.
I liked "The Red Turtle" but I think many will find it too minimalist. Still hoping to see the stop-motion "My Life as a Zucchini."

Bit of a weak year for animation. Not many saw "A Little Prince," which deserved a bigger audience.

Will Win: "Kubo and the Two Strings"
Should Win: "Kubo and the Two Strings"
Chris Cross: "A Little Prince" replaces "Zootopia."

Foreign Language Film

This category is bothersome because often the best foreign films don't even get considered for a nomination, because there are arcane rules about what movies get submitted from each country. My three favorite foreign language films this year were, in order, "Our Little Sister," "Dheepan" and "The Handmaiden," and none of them got in.

I've seen all five nominees -- and it took some doing to get a screener link for "Tanna," which is just a wonderful modern Romeo and Juliet type of story based on the experiences of a real native people. One of the flat-out most beautiful films of the year.

Of those nominated I'll pick "Land of Mine," a Dutch drama about young German soldiers (boys, really) forced to recover land mines from the beach by their captors after WWII. Great little piece of unknown history.

Predicting a winner is tough. "A Man Called Ove" is the sentimental choice. "The Salesman" might get the nod because of its Iranian origin and political climate; the filmmaker is boycotting the Oscar ceremony. Picking it would be a big statement by Academy voters.

Of those remaining, "Toni Erdmann," a weird and quirky German black comedy, has the highest profile, what with an American remake starring Kristen Wiig and Jack Nicholson just announced. So it has a shot to win.

I also liked "Neruda," a very non-traditional biopic of the writer/activist, but not enough to bump "Tanna."

Documentary Feature

A pretty good year for documentaries. Unfortunately, this list of five nominees doesn't even come close to representing the best work of 2016.

"O.J.: Made in America" seems to have this category locked up. It's a fine piece of work, though I would pick the un-nominated "Weiner" as my favorite of the year. But the simple truth is "O.J." is a television documentary miniseries. It was conceived as part of ESPN's "30 for 30" series. After nominal theatrical screenings, it aired on television over several nights -- with commercials. It was edited to include pauses for said commercials. It will be eligible for Emmy prizes next awards cycle.

In form and substance, it is indistinguishable from the work Ken Burns has been doing for decades. If this film wins an Oscar, then Burns should own at least four or five.

Of those nominated, I'll take "Life, Animated," an endearing tale of an autistic boy who learns to connect with the world through Disney animated films. It has a puncher's chance of beating "O.J."

"Fire at Sea" is an often dull look at the refugee crisis in the Mediterranean; it needed a good edit and to be a documentary short rather than a feature. "I Am Not Your Negro" is a rumination on race in America through the words of the late James Baldwin; it's solid but hardly Oscar-worthy. "13th" is a one-sided political screed that takes giant liberties with facts and history; I actually shut it off in anger at one point (though I did eventually watch the rest).

Documentary Short

First year I was able to see all of these. I was struck by how many of them, like "Fire at Sea" among the features, eschew traditional editing. There seems to be a deliberate aesthetic to embrace cinema verite style: Just let the cameras roll and let scenes run.

Problem is, many scenes don't deserve this screen time. They reach their natural point of cutting to the next informational/emotional progression, and then just... don't. The result is frustratingly paced movies sapped of strength.

Of those nominated, I'll take "Extremis," a journalistic exploration of wrenching end-of-life decisions by patients, their families and doctors. "Joe's Violin" is the sentimental pick, so it always has a chance with the Academy's large bloc of older voters.

Three of the docs are about unrest in the Middle East and/or the resulting refugee crisis. Normally I would think that subject matter would appeal to Oscar voters, but there's a good chance they will end up splitting the vote. Of the trio, "The White Helmets" has the best shot.

Coin toss; oldsters rule.

Will Win: "Joe's Violin"
Should Win: "Extremis"

Short Film (Animated)

This has essentially become the Disney/Pixar Award. I'm glad the animation giant uses short films to build up its younger talent, but there are a lot of other great films this year with deeper, richer themes. "Piper" has visual but not storytelling ambition.

Case in point: "Pear Cider and Cigarettes" is a masterful piece by Robert Valley based on his decades-long friendship with a troublesome character named Techno Stypes. It's visually arresting, using more of a motion-comics aesthetic than either traditional hand-drawn or computer-generated animation approaches.

I also really liked "Pearl," a girl's reminiscence on music, her dad and his car.

Will Win: "Piper"
Should Win: "Pear Cider and Cigarettes"

Short Film (Live Action)

"Mindenki" ("Sing") was my favorite, a Hungarian drama about a school choir that approaches children at eye level. "Ennemis Intérieurs," a tense French film about an Arab man being interrogated for terrorist ties -- and my least favorite of the five -- will probably win.

Will Win: "Ennemis Intérieurs"
Should Win: "Mindenki"

Cinematography

Now we segue into the "minor" awards -- a term I hate but recognize. In a year where one film is seen as dominant, these other categories tend to get swept along in the stampede. It's a shame, because the Best Picture winner doesn't automatically have the best photography, or costumes, or sound, etc.

As a result, I think we're going to see a lot of the "down-list" awards go to "La La land."
It is a legitimately amazing-looking film, though I'll take "Silence" for its lush Japanese compositions. The lack of a nod for "Hell or High Water" galls.

Costume Design

I did not like a lot of things about "Jackie," but it's the rare film where costumes are central to the story and characters. I also really liked the look of "Allied" -- I was lusting after Brad Pitt's three-piece suits.

Will Win: "La La Land"
Should Win: "Jackie"

Film Editing

Will Win: "La La Land"Should Win: "Hacksaw Ridge"

Production Design

Will Win: "La La Land"
Should Win: "La La Land"

Sound Mixing

Will Win: "La La Land"Should Win: "Hacksaw Ridge"

Sound Editing

Will Win: "La La Land"
Should Win: "Hacksaw Ridge"

Visual Effects

Here's one category "La La Land" can't win! Interesting to see "Kubo and the Two Strings" nominated here; you almost never see animated films get a nod in the technical categories.

Will Win: "The Jungle Book"
Should Win: "Doctor Strange"

Makeup and Hairstyling

Will Win: "Star Trek Beyond"
Should Win: "Suicide Squad"

Music (Original Song)

I heard a lot of great songs this year. The best song from "Moana" didn't even get nominated: I much prefer the rolling, Polynesian-influenced "We Know the Way" to the main character's theme song.
But there's no chance the dominant film, which is a musical, doesn't win Best Song.

Music (Original Score)

A lot of people get musical score vs. song confused, especially in a musical. Justin Hurwitz worked on the music for "La La Land" for seven years. I personally prefer the moody, atonal music from "Jackie."

“A United Kingdom” is less a story of romantic love than love of country. Patriotism seems out of favor these days, or at least a little frightening in some of its recent incarnations. But this film, based on the real marriage between an African king and an English woman, shows us the noblest side of devotion to one’s people.

David Oyelowo gives a powerful, emotionally layered performance as Seretse Khama, the crown prince of Botswana, known in 1947 as Bechuanaland, a British protectorate. His father died when he was a small child, so his uncle Tshekedi (Vusi Kunene) has ruled as regent for the past two decades.

He’s all set to return home after completing his education studying the law in England, and take his rightful place on the throne. But then he falls for Ruth Williams (Rosamund Pike), a humble clerk, and they determine to marry. This sets off an international brouhaha, as various forces react harshly to the wedding of a white woman and a black man.

Most notably, the South Africans are in the process of instituting apartheid, i.e. total separation of the races with the whites as the unquestioned masters. It wouldn’t do to have an interracial couple ruling the fragile nation on their northern border, and the British are too badly in need of their gold and uranium to risk upsetting the balance.

Director Amma Asante (“Belle”) and screenwriter Guy Hibbert (“Eye in the Sky”) rush us somewhat through the courtship and wedding. But that’s fine, because the film really kicks into high gear when they return to Africa. They’d counted on some resistance and even hatred, but are surprised when seemingly every party is moving against them.

A pair of British bureaucrats, played by Jack Davenport and Tom Felton in full pomp-and-snobbery mode, frustrate them at every turn while presenting a genteel face and even the façade of friendship. Meanwhile, Ruth must deal with the other women of the royal family, notably Seretse’s sister Naledi (Terry Pheto), who are offended that this lily-white woman has presented herself for the role as mother to their country.

The story follows the historical record, with some omissions and condensing of timelines. We move between the houses of British Parliament and the more democratically pure kgotlas of Bechuanaland, as men gather in the open air to hear the appeals of their leaders and vote their will.

Ultimately this is Seretse Khama’s story, a great man whose name is probably unknown to many on these shores. He was an early voice for equality between the races and independence for burgeoning countries.

Oyelowo also shows him to be a shrewd man who knew he had little real power other than what his tongue and example could bring. He and his wife are separated for long stretches as a ruse brings him to London so an exile can be imposed, then teased at being rescinded, just to keep the South Africans pacified.

“A United Kingdom” perhaps tugs a little too hard at the heartstrings at times -- Patrick Doyle’s syrupy musical score lends no favors. But it has the majesty of a true story told with conviction by a fine cast.

Wednesday, February 22, 2017

An Oscar nominee for Best Animated Feature, “The Red Turtle” is deceptively simplistic.

The story is utterly wordless, the plot beyond spare. The hand-drawn animation uses only the barest of lines to render its characters and creatures. It’s more the way they move and hold themselves that lends them hidden depths.

Inured as we are to dazzling CG animation, at first this style may even appear prehistoric. In a fashion, it is -- in the way that fables seem stuck out of time.

A joint Japanese/Dutch production directed by Michael Dudok de Wit, from a screenplay he wrote with Pascale Ferran, “The Red Turtle” is more like a painting in motion than a traditional animated film.

It opens in black and white, an open, roiling sea where a man has become separated from his boat. He is marooned on an island; he finds ways to survive his isolation, but after a time he builds a raft to escape from it. Then a sudden primal bump smashes his crude craft of vine-lashed bamboo. He builds another. Same thing happens. He is mystified by what’s attacking him.

Eventually, it’s revealed to be a massive crimson sea turtle. It seems determined not to let him leave the island, and their conflict escalates. It’s not so much that the man hates the turtle, but resents it trapping him. Later, a woman comes into his life unexpectedly, and their lives are joined. Things go on from there.

There’s a hazy, dream-like quality to the animation, especially the backgrounds of ocean and sky. Despite running a scant 80 minutes, the film is contemplative and may strike some as slow.

The filmmakers and animators of “The Red Turtle” ask us to surrender ourselves to their imagery and natural sounds, occasionally accompanied by mournful music (by Laurent Perez del Mar), rather than being pushed and pulled by editing and actions.

Sunday, February 19, 2017

Sad movies have a place in our lives. Hollywood hasn’t been making a lot of them in recent years, so people don’t go to them when they do come out, and it becomes a chicken-or-the-egg thing.

The thinking goes that folks only go to the theater to be lifted up out of their workaday miseries.

Horsepucky. Sad movies can be indelible because they show us human beings at their lowest, and then how they find their way back toward the light. The best ones, I think, aren’t stories of total redemption, but lead their suffering characters at least to the crossroads where positive outcomes finally seem plausible, if far from certain.

(Think “Cast Away.” If Tom Hanks makes it off the island and gets back together with Helen Hunt, it becomes a fuzzy life-can-survive melodrama.)

“Manchester By the Sea” is one of the saddest and best movies of 2016. Casey Affleck gives the performance of his career as Lee Chandler, a surly Boston janitor who’s summoned back to his hometown after the death of his brother, Joe. The passing is sudden but not surprising, as Joe had been suffering from a serious heart condition.

However, Lee is stunned to find out that Joe has named him guardian of his son, Patrick (a terrific Lucas Hedges). This had never been discussed between the brothers. Joe has left an adequate financial dispensation for the 16-year-old to finish school and start his adult life. But emotionally, there’s almost nothing in the bank.

Once they were close when Patrick was a little kid, but something has happened in the intervening years. Whatever it was, it’s the sort of thing people don’t like to talk about. All we know is that Lee’s soul is etched with some kind of black mark, as surely as if there were a scarlet letter pinned to his chest.

Writer/director Kenneth Lonergan wisely makes his movie not about the thing that happened, but how people deal with it in the years that follow. We do not learn exactly what it was until fairly late in the movie, but at this point the whys and wherefores really aren’t all that important.

A terrific supporting cast hits all the right notes, including Michelle Williams as Lee’s ex-wife, C.J. Wilson as a caring friend of Joe’s and Gretchen Mol as Patrick’s mother, who turns up after a long absence. Of course, Lee immediately seizes upon her as a way out of his predicament.

It’s OK to feel sad. And it would be truly a pity to miss out on a film as good as this.

Bonus features are merely adequate, and are the same for DVD and Blu-ray editions. There are deleted scenes, a making-of featurette and a conversation with Lonergan.

Wednesday, February 15, 2017

So “Fist Fight” is based on a concept that doesn’t survive past its first minute: one high school teacher challenging another to a fight in the parking lot after school lets out.

Sure, it’s a comedy -- but even funny films owe us a certain amount of plausible rectitude.

By all rights, this movie should have died in its infancy. Deserved to be slapped down during the pitch meeting in the producer’s office. Flung objects would not have been unwarranted.

But they went ahead and wrote it, filmed it, edited it and put music to it, and pushed it out into theaters. And I had to watch it.

SO many questions…

What exactly does Mr. Strickland, the surly history teacher played by Ice Cube, think he’s going to accomplish by fighting his offender? He’s already lost his job for taking an axe to a student’s desk – while the student was still in it -- so is he just determined to end his day by getting arrested?

Maybe he knows something we don’t, because the law enforcement response to the impending fight is astonishingly tepid. The 9-1-1 operators even laugh about it.

Andy Campbell, the nerdy English teacher played by Charlie Day, spends the entire movie trying to get out of the fight we know is ultimately going to happen, using all sorts of schemes and contretemps. At one point he bribes a student with an expensive laptop to change his story to the principal (Dean Norris). Why doesn’t he just say, “Hey, I’m sick, going home” around lunchtime?

Why is it that news about the fight spreads through Roosevelt High School like wildfire, and then onto the Internet, even spawning YouTube videos and the hashtag #teacherfight, but none of the school administrators or Andy’s wife (JoAnna Garcia Swisher) ever hear about it?

I will admit to laughing now and then. Tracy Morgan gets a few as Freddie, the brash and utterly incompetent football coach. And I liked Jillian Bell as Holly, the no-boundaries teacher who openly desires hookups with her teenage charges, and takes meth -- but only before school, not during, she says when admonished by Andy.

“Because it’s a gateway?” she asks.

“Well, it’s the finish line,” he responds.

Other than that, it’s a chore to get through. Subplots involving Andy’s very pregnant wife a talent show competition with his daughter don’t provide much comedic ammo, though the latter ends with a shock.

Charlie Day’s motormouth nebbish routine is good at lighting up other movies (“Pacific Rim”), but a lot of that goes a short way. And Cube is just doing that familiar snarly ‘tude thing that has taken his film career a lot further than it deserved.

If there’s a lesson to be taken home from “Fist Fight,” it’s that sometimes you just have to stand up for yourself. Specifically, your right to buy a ticket to something else.

Monday, February 13, 2017

"The Bingo Long Traveling All-Stars & Motor Kings" is a notable watershed film, and not just for having one of the longest titles anyone has ever seen.

This 1976 drama/comedy highlighted largely forgotten portions of the history of cinema, baseball and the city of Indianapolis. For starters, it's one of the few modern mainstream movies you can point to in which every single major character is black. A few white people appear, but they're tiny supporting parts or backgrounders (often stepping forward to spew a racial epithet and then leave).

Even the villainous roles are filled by black actors, from the odious power-hungry team owner to the grim-faced goons he employs to keep the uppity players in line.

Billy Dee Williams, James Earl Jones and Richard Pryor provide the star power, with the likes of Stan Shaw and Mabel King rounding out a strong supporting cast.

A lot of people know about Negro League baseball, but not how it ended. With the integration of the sport accelerating rapidly, the league largely ended as a competitive endeavor by the mid-1950s. Many operations continued as barnstorming entertainment spectacles, however, often featuring ex-Negro League stars like Satchel Paige.

Writer William Brashler based his novel on one such outfit, the Indianapolis Clowns. The Clowns were the last surviving team of the Negro Leagues, and continued performing exhibition games until the mid-1980s. A young Hank Aaron played on the team before being called up to the big leagues. The Clowns operated as sort of a baseball version of the Harlem Globetrotters, doing tricks and jokes in between the baseball, fully living up to their name.

(If you're offended at the team moniker, remember that a lot of Negro League teams had overtly racial names: the Birmingham Black Barons, Atlanta Black Crackers, Winfield Devils, etc.)

Writing partners Hal Barwood and Matthew Robbins were brought in to turn the book into a script. They had just gotten their big break with "The Sugarland Express" for Steven Spielberg; other notable credits include "MacArthur" and the immortal "Dragonslayer."

Director John Badham started out in television, and this film marked his feature film directorial debut. The following year he made "Saturday Night Fever," and would go on to a busy career in the 1980s and '90s, including "Short Circuit," "WarGames," "Stakeout" and "Blue Thunder." Closing in on age 80, he's still busy in TV today, including directing a number of episodes of the series "Supernatural."

It should be noted the entire creative team was white guys, though Berry Gordy served as producer for the film, which was a joint production of his Motown Productions and Universal Pictures.

Set in 1939, the story is about a pair of Negro League stars who chafe at the onerous treatment of their team owners and resolve to start their own exhibition team, with all proceeds split equally amongst the members. Williams plays Bingo Long, a veteran star pitcher loosely based on Satchel Paige. He's in his prime but feels the pull of the years, and jumps at the chance to have something of their own.

The impetus is the latest assault by St. Louis Ebony Aces owner Sallison Potter (Ted Ross), a mortuary man who gives his players only slightly better treatment than the stiffs who come in his door. Rainbow (DeWayne Jessie), a young hitter, is knocked out cold by a beanball pitch and rendered unable to play or even speak. Potter collects $5 each from the pay of each player to buy the bus ticket home for Rainbow, without even so much as a thank-you or may-I.

Bingo's best friend is Leon Carter (Jones), a catcher and power hitter inspired by Josh Gibson. He's a bit older and a bit wiser, and first plants the seeds of this diamond field rebellion by quoting from W. E. B. Du Bois about controlling the means of production.

Before you know it, they're all piled into Bingo's fancified jalopy, with rainbow-colored uniforms and a two-stepping march worked up for the ride into each new town to draw a crowd and parade them to the baseball field. Walter Murchman (John McCurry) is also invited along even though all the other players hate him, because he has the second car they'll need to get around.

Other All-Stars include "Fat" Sam Popper (Leon Wagner), who's barely even pudgy by today's standards; Champ Chambers (Jophery C. Brown); Tony Burton as Isaac, a bald-headed player whose duties on his previous team included catering to the very personal demands of the female team owner; and "Esquire Joe" Calloway (Stan Shaw), a 19-year-old wunderkind they pick up along the road, who ends up being called up to a white farm team in the end.

Pryor has a supporting role as Charlie Snow, who straightens his hair and tries to pass himself off as a Cuban named Carlos Nevada, figuring he'll have a better shot at breaking into the white leagues that way. He serves mostly as comedic relief, including a bit where he attempts to lay a white prostitute and gets chased around the hotel Keystone Cops-style.

But Charlie/Carlos is laid low about halfway through when Potter's mercenaries corner him under the grandstand. The film is an interesting mix of laugh-a-thon hi jinks and more sobering sequences like this, where Carlos is mutilated with razor blades and the team has to sink all their funds into the doctor's bill to help him.

Probably the low/high point of the film's "message" portion is when the team seems to be falling apart, and Bingo has to put Rainbow on a bus home himself -- even temporarily adopting the harsh language and demeanor of their old slave master Potter.

Mabel King plays Bertha Dewitt, the aforementioned female owner and sexual powerhouse. She's an interesting character -- a mountain of a woman who's just as greedy and conniving as her fellows, but at least has sense enough to suggest enlisting Bingo Long's All-Stars to play their own teams, filling the stands rather than trying to destroy them. She acts as Potter's main adversary, continually trading insults about how fat and unattractive the other one is.

The actors employ a great deal of authentic vernacular in the movie, and I wonder how much of it is in the book/script and how much the cast themselves contributed. Even Leon, who's clearly presented as the cagiest and most learned of the All-Stars, says things like "I loves you and I's proud o' you." Jones and the other actors never try to play down to their characters, simply reflecting how black people spoke in the 1930s.

Even if, like me, you're not a baseball fan, there's a whole lot of the flavor of the game to be savored in "Bingo Long." Though the actors don't necessarily pass themselves off as accomplished pitchers or hitters, they're convincing enough for the close-ups. I love the scenes of the stands filled with black folks, stamping their feet, chattering and laying bets on each at-bat.

Bingo has a tradition before each home game of throwing to the first hitter without his team taking the field -- daring them to put wood to ball with no one there to field it. He makes a real show of it, doing a call-and-answer with the crowd: "Who... gonna hit... my... invite pitch?!?"

I'm truly glad I got to see "The Bingo Long Traveling All-Stars & Motor Kings." It may not be the best film ever made, but it's one of those movies that enlightens while it entertains. Go catch it yourself.

Sunday, February 12, 2017

“Arrival” is a fine science fiction drama, more contemplative and imaginative than we usually see. But a Best Picture Oscar nominee? Please.

(In this regard it shares a lot of company, up to and including the runaway favorite, “La La Land.”)

Amy Adams plays Louise Banks, a scientist specializing in languages. When giant black ebony space ships suddenly appear out of the sky, silently taking up station at random points around the globe, she’s brought in to try to communicate with the invaders.

The “heptapods” allow the humans into their ships once every 18 hours. We see some massive tentacles through a clear wall, but the only sounds they make are grunts and screeches that none of the other big brains can make sense of.

Louise, working with fellow egghead Ian (Jeremy Renner), try to use visual aids to make a breakthrough.
Meanwhile, military leaders (including Forest Whitaker) are barking orders and international leaders are stoking fears, believing that the aliens came to provoke a war.

The pivotal role falls to Louise, who discovers that the extraterrestrials do not view time in the same linear line as humans.

I don’t mean to deplore “Arrival.” My chief criticism is that it’s a movie that works very much on an intellectual level and not so much on an emotional one. Most films go the other way, so it’s refreshing to see one aim more for the mind than the heart.

The truly best films, though – the kind nominated for Best Picture – should do both.

Bonus features are a bit lacking, especially if you buy the DVD edition, which contains none.

Thursday, February 9, 2017

4.1 Miles

(21 minutes)

The title of “4.1 Miles” refers to the distance across the Aegean Sea from the coast of Turkey to the Greek isle of Lesbos – a span that hundreds of thousands of refugees have had to traverse in recent years during upheaval in the Middle East. A film crew from the New York Times follows a single boat captain as they troll the waters each day, rescuing people desperate enough to board flimsy inflatable craft or even fling their bodies into the water. There are some very powerful moments, especially trying to revive unconscious children. But the documentary feels too much like raw footage – looking over shoulders, confused scenes of massed bodies – than a structured exploration. Such an important subject demands more editing discipline.

Extremis

(24 minutes)

This documentary from Netflix is a sobering look at end-of-life health care. We start off with an old woman in the ICU who cannot speak, but indicates with her hands that she wants her breathing tube removed, while the doctor explains this will mean her death. The film puts us up close and personal with the doctors, patients and their families facing these literally life-and-death decisions. How much choice should a person have to refuse medical care and end their own life? A stark exploration of a subject that every one of us will face at some point in our lives.

Joe’s Violin

(24 minutes)

This simple but affecting story concerns an old violin that binds two lives. Joseph Feingold is a Holocaust survivor from Warsaw who had to leave behind his playing while he spent years in a Siberian labor camp. He obtained another violin in 1947 – buying it in a displaced person’s camp for a carton of cigarettes -- but stopped playing a few years ago when advanced age made it too difficult. So he donates it to a New York City program for local music students, and it finds its way into the hands of Brianna, an ebullient girl who decides to prepare a special song just for her benefactor. The simple stories are often the best.

The White Helmets

(40 minutes)

The White Helmets are the unofficial brigade of Syrian volunteers who have made it their mission to rescue people during the incessant bombing that have plagued the war-torn country for the past few years. They’re the runs who run into burning buildings and dig through mountains of debris to extract a trapped child. These self-effacing heroes describe their lives in their own words, following three in particular: Khalid, Abu and Mohammad (who used to be a rebel fighter until he saw the destruction they rained upon innocent civilians). This on-the-ground account shows the bombs falling, the terrible destruction and the human grace that happens in the aftermath.

Watani My Homeland

(40 minutes)

This moving documentary looks at the Syrian refugee crisis from the level of a single family. The filmmakers follow them for several years, starting when the father, Abu Ali, is a fighter with the rebels. He and his wife fret about what his role plays in the lives of their three children: Hammoudi, Helen and Sara. “I have sacrificed my children for the revolution,” he says. A year later he is captured by ISIS, and the mother loses hope of ever seeing him again. They eventually become refugees who are placed in the German town of Goslar, and we watch them assimilate into that community, the schools and street life. When Sara first sees a helicopter fly overheard, she flees because she assumes it has come to drop bombs on them. An insightful exploration of a topic from a human level.

So I read where Dakota Johnson said she used whiskey to get through shooting the sex scenes in “Fifty Shades Darker.” After watching the movie all I can say is: Where’s ours?

And I’m thinking a nice loooong pour, too -- four fingers, at least.

Wow, this is really garbage filmmaking. I scoffed at the first one, "Fifty Shades of Grey," based on the best-selling novel, but had to admit it wasn't terrible. The sequel is truly, desperately rotten.

It's a tiresome exercise in kink that's really not that kinky, a wannabe flesh-fest where there really isn't all that much skin on display. The weirdest things get between billionaire/S&M fan Christian Grey (Jamie Dornan) and reluctant submissive/lady love Anastasia Steele (Johnson) is when he shackles her ankles with a rod in between so she can't close her legs.

Oooooo, filthy!

I admit I don't know a lot about BDSM culture -- I've got enough pain in my life without bringing it into the bedroom -- but I get the sense true aficionados would find the couple's activities absurdly tame. Especially after Ana ditched Christian at the end of the first movie because he seemed to be enjoying her suffering.

(Wait, isn't that what the S&M part of BDSM is all about?)

He woos her back about five minutes into the sequel, promising to suppress his naughty ways and love Ana for the person she is. Specifically, a mousy, passive, self-doubting wallflower who pretends not to know how gorgeous she is.

The plot is a tawdry succession of cheap perils cooked up to keep us distracted from a story of two people who make sex a lot more complicated that it needs to be. This includes one of Christian's former "subs" -- women he essentially hired to be his submissive lovers -- going all cray-cray on him. She starts to follow Ana around with increasingly threatening behavior.

And then there's Kim Basinger as Elena, the older "dominant" woman who first turned Christian on to the leather-and-kneeling game when he was a teen. She shows up about once every half hour, her splotchy face seemingly held together by Bondo, to try to undermine Ana's relationship with him.

Then there's the helicopter subplot. It's like the filmmakers turned to each other and said, "Well, we can't just have them having sex the entire movie, but the story comes to a dead stop about 90 minutes in. What can we do to pump things up? ...I know!"

At some point the legions of female fans of these books and movies are going to have to own up to the fact that Christian Grey is, by any objective standard, a major league asshole. He likes to hurt women and is incredibly controlling of Ana, right down to ordering her meal for her at restaurants and telling her what clothes to wear to parties. (Along with... other accoutrements.)

But he's dreamy and a billionaire and has that protruding-veins look that's popular right now, so millions of women are willing to give Christian a pass as a fantasy object.

Let's do a quick experiment: Take all of Christian's personality quirks and bedroom predilections, and transpose that onto the personage of Donald Trump. How's that workin' for ya, ladies?

I've long enjoyed bragging that I never walked out of a movie. I came awfully close this time.

Really, the only thing I liked about the movie is a bit where Johnson repeats a line her mom, Melanie Griffith, said at the end of "Working Girl" when her new secretary offers to fetch her coffee. It's something very few people will get, but it made me think of a much better movie.

I started humming the theme song from that film, "Let the River Run," and it momentarily drowned out the pain of sitting through this one. After all, there was no booze handy.

There was a certain feral purity to 2014’s “John Wick.” It was your standard chop-socky-and-gunplay action flick featuring a faded star, with one notable departure: the reason behind the orgy of blood made absolutely no sense.

I mean, what kind of retired assassin goes on a killing spree simply because some Russian goons stole his car and killed his puppy? Even if the latter was a posthumous gift from his recently departed wife? The sheer absurdity of the revenge motivation gave the movie a sort of bent edge -- suggesting that the eponymous killer may have just been using it as an unconscious excuse to dive back into this old life.

(Plus, I love puppies but they’re easily replaced. 1969 Mustang Boss 429s, on the other hand, don’t just grow on trees. #Priorities, man.)

The sequel takes up almost literally at the moment the last one ended, with John Wick (Keanu Reeves) wrapping things up with the Russians and reclaiming his ride -- though not without collateral damage. (If the filmmakers did that to a real 429, we hates them forever.)

“John Wick: Chapter 2” is stylistically a retread of the first, though it takes us deeper into the lore of the underground assassins’ world that we stuck a toe into in the first movie. We learn of a “High Table” of crime syndicates, whom the assassins serve using their own complex set of rules.

This infrastructure includes “The Continental,” a fancy New York hotel that’s neutral ground where the killers can rest, heal and rearm. The manager, Winston (Ian McShane), enforces the house policy with severe exactitude. Now we learn there are Continentals in virtually every major city, including Rome, where most of the action takes place. Wick doles out gold coins accumulated during his gun-for-hire days to pay his way.

It turns out that Santino D’Antonio (Riccardo Scamarcio), an Italian crime family prince, has a “marker” from John Wick, a promise to repay an old debt no matter what. Santino wants to kill his sister, Gianna (Claudia Gerini), so he can take her place at the High Table. Of course, Wick has sworn off his old life and will need… convincing.

Stunts are at the heart of “John Wick: Chapter 2,” so it’s no surprise it was directed by longtime stunt coordinator Chad Stahelski, who made his debut behind the camera with the last movie. Derek Kolstad returns as script man.

I like that the mayhem happens at a believable speed, without a whole lot of fast editing to cover up the choreography. Wick’s signature move is spinning around multiple opponents, grappling them and disabling with shots or kicks, and then finishing them off with a cap to the head.

Wick’s good, of course, but so is everybody else, and he takes a lot of hits that slow him down. For instance, when he gets stabbed in the leg, he limps for the rest of the movie. And his face gets gradually chewed up into dog food.

New opponents this go-round are Common as Cassian, an old pro in the game with a shared history and respect, and Ruby Rose as Ares, the chief lieutenant for Santino. Rose makes an impression with her boyish suits and haircut, and the fact her character is mute. Conveniently, Wick speaks sign language, so they can taunt each other via subtitles.

Laurence Fishburne turns up as a sort of shambolic king of the homeless underground, and John Leguizamo returns in a cameo as Wick’s friend and able mechanic.

Like a lot of Keanu Reeves’ performances, this one is rather hard to penetrate. Depending on the material, he can seem cool or wooden. He under-acts to the point of seeming like he doesn’t care about the talkie scenes, and is saving his energy for the fights.

I like that he doesn’t have the sort of snarly bravado we’re used to in action heroes; his John Wick genuinely seems like he’d rather be sitting around his mansion doing Sad Keanu memes, or anything else.

This movie vibrantly carries on the John Wick story, satisfactorily expands upon its world and makes no bones about setting up a part three. It even offers a possible reason why he gave such a damn about that vehicle -- beyond the fact that it’s the greatest muscle car ever made, of course.

Batman was the breakout character of “The Lego Movie” -- which is not bad for a guy who’s been hanging around since 1939.

He basically operated as comic relief, voiced by a mock-gravely Will Arnett in a spoof of the character’s grim persona. It worked because on some level I think most of us find Bats a bit teadious after a while. Having something like a dozen movie iterations doesn’t help.

For me, the highest point of parody was when Batman played some music he’d written, pounding thrash rock punctuated by the lyrics, “Darkness!! …No parents!!”

So now he’s got his own movie, and the challenge is to see if they can sustain a parody of a tiresome superhero without it becoming tiresome itself. The answer is: mostly.

I feel sort of ridiculous offering a story summary of the movie. Credited to five (!) writers, it’s a deliberately chaotic mashup of Batman lore, including virtually every villain he’s ever fought, plus a bunch more created on the spot.

One of them, Condiment Man, has a superpower of squirting mustard and ketchup at you. Not even powerful arcs of sauce, just limp little spurts that fall ineffectually at his feet. Maybe try not to be such a traditionalist, dude -- work some salsa or tzatziki into the mix.

Anyway, the joke is that Batman/Bruce Wayne is super arrogant and self-centered, but secretly he’s desperately lonely and in denial about it. He spends his off time loitering around the bat cave, pestered by his butler, Alfred (Ralph Fiennes), about letting people in.

Fortunately, a group of people immediately presents itself as his potential new family, including Alfred himself, a nervous scamp of an orphan who will become Robin (Michael Cera) and Barbara Gordon (Rosario Dawson), the new commissioner of Gotham City. She’s taking over from her dad, Jim Gordon, after graduating from “Harvard Police School.” Dear daddy just pushed the button for the bat signal whenever trouble appeared, but the new sheriff in town has some discomforting ideas about Batman sharing the limelight.

The threat comes from the Joker (Zach Galifianakis), the Batman’s old nemesis who’s feeling a bit neglected these days. Batman won’t even admit to calling Joker his arch-enemy, saying that he likes to fight lots of different people and doesn’t have any preferences. “I like to fight around,” he says, in one of many in-jokes aimed at adults.

So Joker and his gang get the idea to release all the super-villains trapped by Superman in the Phantom Zone, and soon Bats has got more on his hands than he can handle.

It’s aimed squarely at kids, but is smart and savvy enough to throw in enough to keep parents engaged, too. Compared to so many moribund animated flicks lately that couldn’t pull off that trick -- “Sing,” “Trolls” -- it almost seems like a super-power.

Wednesday, February 8, 2017

Is there another male filmmaker, American or foreign, whose career has been so dedicated to exploring complex, nuanced female characters? The Spanish master’s oeuvre is filled with stories of mothers and daughters, wives and lovers, sisters and mistresses. Men are nearly always in the background of his films.

“Julieta” is a minor work in Almodóvar’s filmography, but still a worthy one. It explores how a woman’s history of loss changes her from a dynamic young independent spirit into a middle-aged person bound by regret -- but still filled with a resolve to seek out love wherever she can find it.

Emma Suárez and Adriana Ugarte play Julieta at older and younger stages, respectively. It’s a testament to their skills that we feel the continuity of a single life despite any lack of resemblance in face or voice.

As the story opens, Julieta is preparing to move from Madrid to Portugal with her boyfriend, Lorenzo (Dario Grandinetti). It seems an ideal situation for the longtime widow, a pleasant ramp down to fulfilling golden years.

But then she runs into a friend of her daughter, Antia, whom she has not heard from in years. She used to receive blank cards on her birthdays, but now not even that. The friend tells her that her child is living in Switzerland with three children of her own -- grandkids she never even knew existed.

Abruptly, Julieta cancels the move with Lorenzo, knowing it will doom the relationship. She even moves back into the old apartment she had while raising Antia -- clinging to the desperate hope that her daughter will come home to her again.

Ugarte takes over the role as the story shifts to an extended flashback. We meet Antia’s father, Xoan (Daniel Grao), whom Julieta met on a train. A tragedy brings them closer together, and they begin an affair even though Xoan is still married, to a woman in a coma. Sadness clings to Xoan like dew to a flower, but she can’t resist his presence.

Things go on from there with typical Almodóvar story twists involving affairs, tragic accidents and misunderstandings that grow into yawning chasms of emotional separation. As usual, the filmmaker also penned the script.

“Julieta” is a rather low-key movie, without the usual epic tides of emotion we’re used to from the Spanish filmmaker. But that’s by design, I think. He’s exploring how someone reacts when the people most dear to them are suddenly ripped away -- by circumstance, and by another’s seemingly cruel choice. It’s a quiet tempest.

Mindenki

(24 minutes)

This Hungarian drama, whose titles means “Sing,” is about Zsofi, a new girl at school who’s excited about joining the choir. The teacher, Miss Erika, is beloved and the group is widely lauded – they’re currently gearing up for the national championship, which they usually win. But Zsofi is crushed when Miss Erika instructs her to mime because her singing isn’t good enough. She also instructs Zsofi to keep this a secret, which sets off tensions with her new friend, a popular girl named Liza, and a troubling discovery. Deeply observant, a film that approaches childhood at eye level.

Timecode

(15 minutes)

A garage security guard named Luna shows up for another dreary day of work, taking over from the night guy. Somebody complains about his taillight getting busted, and she checks the security camera tapes. Turns out the other guard is a dancer who likes to bust a move while making his rounds, and accidentally clipped the car. Luna covers up the incident and leaves him a message and a timestamp of her own, beginning an odd, enchanting little pas de deux. Charming, human and alive. And with a very funny last line of dialogue.

Ennemisis Intérieurs

(28 minutes)

A tense drama (“Enemies Within”) that raises uncomfortable questions about nationalism and religious fears. A French man of Algerian origin is applying for French citizenship. The interview with a bureaucrat in a lonely office turns increasingly hostile, despite his having lived in French territory his entire life. He’s asked about mosques, meetings, revolutionary talk, etc. It’s obvious the official is trying to find out about terrorist activity, but the man insists he knows nothing. Eventually the pot simmers.

La Femme et le TGV

(30 minutes)

In the lovely Swiss town of Monbijou, an old widow named Elise runs a small bakery and lives next to the rail line, where the TGV bullet train zooms by every day at 300 km/hour. She’s a bit stubborn and old-fashioned: “I’ve never sent an internet, and I never will!” she declares. Elise and her son had a habit of flinging open their window and waving a Swiss flag at the train, one she has continued after he grew up and moved away. One day a letter shows up from the driver, Bruno, who has passed by unseen each day, welcoming her presence. They begin exchanging notes and packages, a November romance from afar. Funny, sad, joyous.

Silent Nights

(30 minutes)

This Danish film is about a young woman who starts volunteering for the local Salvation Army, serving mostly African immigrants. She falls for one of them, a stalwart man who lives on the street collecting bottles for money, which he sends home to his family back home to help them survive. Meanwhile, he is plagued by racist comments and abuse at every turn. And she has to deal with an alcoholic mother with hidebound sentiments. Can their fragile love survive a world of hate and xenophobia? Well-acted but contains few surprises.